


Beside You

by blacklightning



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Rape, Best Friends, Embarrassment, Inferiority Complex, Loads of emotions, M/M, Smutty, Stalker!AU, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacklightning/pseuds/blacklightning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stalker!au Parksborn fic in which Harry is being stalked and Spider-Man saves the day. There's backstory implied, and Gwen and Peter are only close friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (prologue)

“Pe…ter?”

Harry can't see very well through the fire. He has great difficulty breathing, and can't move at all. With every breath he takes, more smoke invades his lungs, making him cough almost to the point of throwing up. He doesn't know in what universe he's getting out of this place alive, if he was ever getting out. 

All the events of the past month rush into his clouded head like antelopes running from a lion: the beating, the discovery, the fight… Everything in between. How much does he really regret? How much did he really want to happen?

It was all a blur, now. 

If only Peter could be here, in his last moments. If only Peter could tell him he was going to make it, that life wouldn’t leave his aching body. If only… If only Peter could have _loved_ him, made his life whole, knew how much he meant to him. There was never a way Harry could reveal himself now, on the very brink of death. His sentiments would be forever buried, never to be known by the king of his heart.

“I guess it’s… Just as well” he mutters with a short breath. He closes his eyes.

Being lift off the ground is the last thing he feels, before blacking out completely.

_Forgive me. I’ll always love you __._


	2. (coming home)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: major subject of this chapter is rape.

A buzzer rings in the empty office, flashing the number 7 with impressive light. The sound echoes on the wall with roaring force, as if it was trying to wake the whole block up. A groan suddenly comes from what appears to be a pile of blankets on the couch, and a small glass is seen flying across the room, missing the clock by a few centimeters only.

“Fuck!”

A young man stands up, swearing his way through the office, his shaggy blond hair falling before his ice-blue eyes. Quite thin, he does however seem strong, due to the force with which the glass shattered on the floor. He’s careful not to step on any annoying shard, as he roughly shuts the alarm off with one last murmured “fuck”. 

Turning around, the boy walks to the panoramic window of the room, observing the Big Apple extending to impressive lengths under him. Scoffing under his breath, he closes the path between himself and the liquor cabinet, opening it with a bump of his toe. He takes a bottle of whiskey out, pours himself a fair amount and chugs it down. He grimaces, shaking his head as if to wipe the alcohol away. « _Fucking hell, hello morning_ » he thinks, shrugging his small shoulders.

He hears a door opening, and turns around.

“Good morning, Harry.”

A small smile animates his pulpous lips for a short while, as he bites the bottom one down in a wicked smile.

“Good morning, Felicia.”

She was the only person he let call him by his first name, feeling as if she was the sole purpose of continuing his work as OSCORP’s CEO. Felicia Hardy made him feel accepted and loved in his work place, and he would always be thankful for that. In addition to that, the fact that he was playing a sort of flirtatious game on a daily basis with her added to his pleasure: Harry Osborn likes to be desired. 

And he achieves this to a fucking badass level.

He walks over to her, barefooted, his pajamas hanging from his hips in a sultry way, his black shirt tight around his body. He places his hands behind his back, checks her out and whistles gently.

“Gorgeous attire today, I must say.”

She chuckles, playing along. She was simply wearing a short and tight black skirt with a short sleeved blouse and heels.

“Quite underdressed yourself, Mr. CEO. Why don’t you get some decent clothing on while I lay down your schedule for the day?”

Smiling, Harry looks down at his feet, quickly moving so that he’s behind her, whispering in her ear.

“Be right back, lovely.”

He kisses her on the cheek. With this tenderness, she looks up at him, gently smiling. She shakes her head and mutters something under her breath before walking to his desk, holding her end of the bargain. Harry claps his hands one time at this, before sweeping around on his heels to go inside the sort-of bedroom where he keeps some of his clothes. He rapidly picks up a black blazer, with black skinny jeans and black leather boots, which he leaves laced but unzipped. He takes a grey button up shirt out of a drawer and puts it on, simply sliding the blazer onto it.

He then takes himself in front of a mirror, grabs his comb and basically tries to tame his hair. Eyebrows crooked, Harry meticulously combs his blond locks.

“Would you please no be a bitch this morning, hair? I’m tired enough as it is”.

After twenty minutes he gives up, one fucking curl not bending the way it was supposed to. At least most of it was placed in a kind-of presentable manner, which satisfies him immensely. He stays in the bathroom for a couple minutes more, slightly touching the intense eyebags under his pupils. « _I look like a fucking zombie_ » he thinks. 

He’s always had skin that marked easily, and his eyes are the worst. Some people say that his irises are the window to the cold abyss inside his soul, and that is the reason behind the constant purple surrounding them. Maybe succeeding to his father so rapidly after his death had been a bad idea, but he couldn’t walk away now. He was three months into everything: three months CEO, three months playing Felicia Hardy, three months living in New York again, and three months reconnecting with Peter Parker. 

The simple thought of Peter lights up his face, a beaming smile now stretching his delicate features. Looking at himself in the mirror, Harry flirts it up, teasing the reflection with witty words, subtle moves and blazing hot eye contact. 

After all, if he’s got one thing nailed down, it’s _looks_ : looks could get him anywhere or anyone for that matter. He, Harry Osborn, had never been said ‘no’ his entire life, because he knows how to seduce better than anyone, and fuels up on being wanted. It’s basically the only thing he’s good at, besides falling in love with the wrong person. 

« _Oh no, not now_ » Harry thinks angrily.

Not happy with the route his thoughts were taking, Harry shuts the emotion down, and at the same time loses the light in his eyes. At that, he shortly smiles. Having been controlled all his life, will-power over himself was probably the best thing he could ever have discovered. 

He stands up, brushes his arms slightly, and tightens his blazer around his body. Consciously hair-flipping, he smiles: he simply could not leave it all behind simply for such a pathetic thing as _sleep_.

\----------

“Harry! Mr. Menken is here” Felicia yells from the living room in a toned that Harry perceives as slightly irritated.

He sighs. _Menken_ , a.k.a the person who probably was the least pleased to see him work his ways as CEO of OSCORP. Close associate to his father, Menken used to think that he himself would succeed to the great Norman Osborn, but it appears the only heir Norman would consider was his only son, Harry. At this, the man had yelled to injustice, and Harry still perceived him as a sneaky bastard to this day, calculating and cunning. 

He knows he has an enemy _inside_ his corporation’s walls. Fucking reassuring.

“Coming, Felicia!” Harry yells back, stopping himself from cursing at the last second. He needed to get the language under control for work, at least. As he walks out of the bedroom, Harry sees Menken at the other end of the panoramic office, waiting for him with a couple of other associates. 

“What a welcome committee I have this morning!” mocks Harry, unable to stop the words from leaving his mouth. Menken freezes, much to Harry’s delight. He was in fucking charge and he could smug as much as he wanted. He welcomes the other board members with more enthusiasm. “What are you all doing here, anyway?”

“We have a meeting, Ha… Mr. Osborn. About the electrical plant” Menken answers shortly, whipping the sweat from his forehead. 

“Oh, right, the electrical plant! I’d completely forgotten” Harry says, snapping his fingers. “Well, why don’t you all sit down, I’m sure Felicia won’t mind indulging us with a bit of coffee?”

To this, Felicia nods, because that’s part of her job. She goes up to the counter and starts putting coffee in the machine, careful not to make too much noise as the business men and women take their places around the ginormous glass table at the center of the room. 

Looking at all of them sitting down before him, Harry feels all powerful. He smiles looking down at Menken, who almost called him by his first name just now. « _Jealous people are the funniest, but also the most dangerous_ », he remembers silently. 

He sits down. Twelve people surround the table, and he couldn’t feel more at ease with himself. 

“So, the electrical plant. What about it?”

Menken slides a square-shaped USB key in his directions, implying that he would open it. Harry does, moving it to the right so that its content is now glowing on the glass table.

“Which file, may I ask?” Menken reaches over and clicks on the right one. A series of pictures pop up in front of Harry’s eyes, representing the place designed to power the entirety of New York. 

“You do know, Mr. Osborn, that we appropriated parts of the design for this plant from one of your employees. Your father had agreed to this measure, and we fulfilled his wishes” Menken starts, gently gesturing to the other board members as he speaks. They gently nod their head in unison.

Harry appears puzzled.

“Yeah, so? Has anything changed regarding that project? Seems to be working pretty fine to me” he says, slightly irritated.

The board members crook their eyebrows at his apparent fit, resulting in more amusement from Harry. « _What the fuck do they expect? That I’ll decode their business talk?_ » he thinks. He lifts his head to see Felicia putting down numerous mugs of coffee in the center of the table, along with sugar and milk. He catches her eyes, and she nods at him. Her eyes are playful, and he knows she finds the situation ridiculous. 

Menken goes on, though.

“What has changed is the simple fact that there was an accident in the electrical facility at OSCORP Tower and that there was someone injured. That same someone we appropriated the designs _from_.”

At this, Harry bites his bottom lip in anxiety. His voice trembles as he responds.

“Did he leave something behind that could put us in trouble?” he demands, ice-cold eyes looking straight into Menken’s brownish hell. 

There’s a dead kind-of silence that appears to endure decades before another sound is uttered.

“No, he did not” Menken assures. “However, he appears to have developed some kind of abilities in relation to electricity. It was a good thing that he was stopped before he could get to Time Square, two nights ago.”

At this, Harry flips.

“He managed to get out and about?! How in the _fuck_ did he?” Harry shouts, standing up. 

Everyone’s looking at him now, judging him, stripping him down. He couldn’t care less.

“I supposed, now that he’s caught, you _interned_ him at Ravencroft with all the other lonely souls that didn’t choose to be affected by OSCORP chemical accidents?”

Harry feels anger erupting everywhere inside him, making him tremble like never before. « _I can’t lose my cool, not now_ » he thinks, taking a deep breath. Injustice always does this to him.

He sits back down. He notices a slight smile on Menken’s lips, but doesn’t know what to make of it. 

“He’s in Ravencroft at the moment, yes. We are currently doing simple tests on him to find out what the electric eels did to him, specifically. He’s not being harmed in any way” speaks Menken, looking at the other board members for support. They all nod.

Harry sighs, giving up. After all, if he is dangerous, he should be kept in a secure place… But he _will_ talk to the person in charge regarding the tests.

“Alright, fine. I’ll speak with the person in charge regarding the tests” he finally says. “Anything else on the menu this fine morning?” 

Saying this, he sits back as the board members start talking all at once.

_Lovely fucking day_.

\----------

“Have a good night, Harry. See you tomorrow.”

“Wishing the same to you, gorgeous.”

Kissing Felicia on the cheek, Harry walks out of OSCORP Tower, under the stars. It’s about 9 o’clock at night, and he’s starving. He could’ve eaten in his office, ordered whatever, but he needed the fresh air. 

He’d been in meetings all _fucking_ day. No break, just enough time to drink a couple of whiskeys all over the place. This job was exhausting, and he needed to lash out at something. 

He needed to vent. 

Harry takes out his cell phone and hits #1 on speed-dial. He hears the phone ring twice, and then a rushed sort of voice answered. Hearing it, Harry can’t help but smile.

“Hellllloooooo!”

“Hey Pete, it’s me.”

At this, he thinks he hears Peter sigh in happiness.

“Hey Harry! What’s up? It’s been a while since you called, man.”

“I know. Work is killing me, and right now I kinda need to vent about my day. I’m going downtown to eat at this sushi place, coming with?”

There’s a slight silence.

“Pete?”

“Yeah sorry, I’m just hanging with Gwen at the moment. I was asking if it’s fine to go meet up with you.”

The monster in Harry’s heart makes an appearance, clawing at his sanity like no other. Gwen _fucking_ Stacy always had to be in the way.

“So, did the princess agree, then?”

Peter laughs.

“He just called you a princess” Harry hears Peter say. He listens closely and distinctly hears Gwen’s voice. “Oh I’m sorry, little gentleman. You can have your sweet dose of Peter tonight because this princess right here authorizes it! Cry me a river.” She laughs.

Harry bites his lips in frustration.

“Are you done?”

“Yeah she is” he hears Peter say through his laughter. “I’ll meet you at the usual place, alright?”

“Yeah, great. See you in a bit.”

He cuts the line. 

\----------

“Thank you, Mr. Osborn.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Enrique.”

Harry hops out of the taxi, and closes the door. The driver joins his coworkers on the road for a nightshift. Watching him go, Harry reflects on the fact that he never paid a driver during his time at CEO. He always preferred taking taxis and talking with the drivers about their lives. Maybe it was to remember that there were people who were less fortunate than him, but could still afford a happy life.

Yeah, that was probably it.

He has arrived to his meeting point with Peter, and as usual he’s there alone. He rechecks his phone for the time: 9:37 PM. « _8 minutes, Parker_ » he scoffs under his breath. He knows Peter won’t make it here before ten, so he starts walking towards the restaurant. 

Very few people are outside, since he’s in an area where rich and poor clash. It’s kind of a deserted area. Harry just walks, closely checking his surroundings. 

There’s a loud crack on his left. 

He spins his head, stopping all movement. He doesn’t see much in the darkness, but he hears another ‘thud’, with rapid footsteps sounds coming from the same source. « _Holy fuck not this again_ » Harry thinks nervously, starting to walk again. Maybe he’s paranoid, but it’s not the first time this sort of thing happens.

In the past few weeks, he’s had regular encounters of such noises at night. Even during the day, he feels a burning stare on his neck, like someone is watching him very closely. Every time he tries to find a face either in the darkness or in the crowds of people during the day, it’s infructuous. 

There’s a ‘bang’, and then he distinctly hears the word ‘fuck’ coming from his left. Harry freezes on the spot, several scenarios now playing deep into his head. 

“Who’s there?”

He hears another ‘bang’, and then nothing. Angry and scared, he turns around, trying to make a face in the darkness. He hates feeling helpless, and even here there’s no one to help him should he get mugged. 

He’s _alone_.

“Show your fucking face, whoever you are. Stop following me around!” Harry yells, arms wide.

He hears someone laugh behind him, but he’s afraid to turn around. 

“Who the fuck are you talking to, Harry?”

It’s Peter’s voice. 

Harry turns around and sees Peter coming in the opposite direction, a beaming smile on his face. In all his nervousness, Harry can’t help but smile: he isn’t meeting his stalker just yet, and he’s not prepared to.

Peter stops walking when he’s right in front of him.

“So? Who are you screaming at like a maniac?”

At this, Harry’s face closes. To hide his fear, he opts for lies.

“Nobody, really. This fucking cat scared the shit out of me and I wanted to stab him” Harry says, putting his heart into the lie.

Apparently, it works, because Peter doesn’t pursue the subject any longer. Instead he swings an arm over Harry’s shoulders, pulling him in as he starts walking again.

“Sushi, Osborn? We’re feeling fancy tonight?”

Harry can’t help but smile at Peter’s playfulness, as much as he can’t help molding himself into his friend’s embrace. Being close to Peter is something he always yearns.

“Yes, Parker. Delicious, fulfilling sushi. I’ve had a rough day.”

“Start at the beginning, man. I’m a good listener” Peter smiles, smacking him on the shoulder playfully. 

With this, Harry felt at home.

\----------

“Am I gonna be seeing you anytime soon, Harry?” Peter asks as they are getting out of the restaurant, around eleven.  


Harry shrugs.  


“Yeah you’ll be seeing me. Thank you for tonight Pete, I really needed it.”  


Peter smiles and pulls him into a warm hug, which Harry didn’t expect at all. As a result, he inhales Peter’s very own perfume in big drafts, feeling content and appreciated.  


He has to stop himself from shivering when Peter murmurs in his ear.  


“Take care of yourself man. Those eyebags are starting to look pretty darn scary.”  


Peter lets go of him, a more serious frown on his face as he starts walking away.  


“Be careful on these streets, mate. They aren’t always safe at this hour!” Peter remarks as he turns around.  


Harry laughs at this.  


“What are you, a member of the NYPD? I’ll be fine thanks” he tells Peter as he starts walking in the opposite direction. His friend waves a hand at this, and Harry can hear him laughing loud and clear.  


« _Man, it was good to see you, Pete_. »  


Harry decides he’ll walk back to OSCORP Tower, and spend the night there. The rush Peter gave him was too much for him to just sit down, and it was beautiful outside. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this happy, and he had only seen Peter for a few hours.  


That was what he called being ‘Parker’d’. Because Peter did something to his heart, something he didn’t know how to call. Harry just knew that he cherished every single fiber of Peter’s being, even his flaws.  


He understood that with Gwen, it was jealousy; with Felicia, only a game. He would never actually sleep with her, because what interested him was far different, and something she could never measure up with.  


Because Harry Osborn liked _men_. Nothing could ever change that.  


During his years at boarding school, he had had this reputation: he was the slut, the basic sex-god. He had slept with practically every male, gay or straight, that crumpled in the place. Harry was an artist at charming and seducing, and he knew his craft to the last fucking point.  


The only thing that sucked was that people got attached to him, and he kept getting attached to the wrong people in return.  


Enter Peter Parker.  


« _Why, why, why_ » Harry thinks, rubbing his temples with his hands. He didn’t have time to have a fucking crush or to become fucking overly-attached to someone that had been in his life forever.  


Or… Maybe was that the point?  


Harry stops at an intersection, and turns left. He walks a little bit more, and retires to the left in an alley to take a deep breath. He was rushing. His mind doesn’t have time to connect to his heart, and he needs to calm down.  


His eyelids fall down on his ocean-like irises, giving him time to reconnect. He takes deep breaths, happiness returning to his face as he thinks about Peter’s dork-as-fuck smile.  


“Who are you thinking about now, Osborn?”  


Harry’s eyes snap open, and he looks right. The voice came from the shadows on the street.  


“Show your fucking face, creep. I know you’ve been following me around” Harry murmurs in a tone he wants to seem confident and menacing.  


All he gets is a cold laugh. The effect sends a deep shivers down his spine. « _I have a bad feeling about this_ » he thinks, stepping backwards into the alley as the strange man comes closer.  


When the stalker finally steps into the dim light of the alley, Harry is surprised not to know who he is: tall, dark, muscular, with eyes a sharpening kind of grey, a wicked smile on his lips… He’s about his age. However, Harry does have this strange feeling that he’s met him before.  


“Do I even know you?” Harry asks, feeling the sweat pouring down his ashen face.  


The man stops moving. He stretches his back up, as if to show Harry how tall he really is. As it turns out, he’s practically a _giant_.  


« _Brilliant_ » Harry thinks, starting to feel an imposing threat. Probably feeling this, the stalker starts to laugh.  


“Are we scared, little rich boy? You don’t even fucking remember who I am, do you?” He starts walking towards Harry at a faster pace, suddenly lunging at him.  


The effect of surprise trapping him, Harry feels the stalker’s hand gripping his arm and pulling him against the nearest wall. In two seconds flat, he finds himself stuck between the wall and the man, both the stalker’s hands circling his thin frame.  


He didn’t stand a chance.  


Still laughing, the stalker looks down at him, and what Harry finds in his eyes is not the least bit reassuring: it’s a volcano of violence, torment, sadness. « _I’m in deep shit_ » Harry realizes, putting both his hands on the stalker’s chest, trying to push him away. To this, the man only steps closer.  


The blonde makes a desperate attempt.  


“Please, I’ll give you anything you want… A boat, a plane, money, just let me go!” He knows his voice trembles, but he can’t control it.  


He’s surprised when the stalker only smiles.  


“I don’t want anything artificial, Osborn. I want to take back what’s mine, in occurrence you.”  


He doesn’t give Harry a chance to react as he bends down to kiss him, making his intentions _fairly_ clear.  


“What the fuck?!” Harry yells, teeth out. He tries to bite, but the taller man forcefully opens his mouth to kiss him deeply, restraining his hands with a power grip. Harry then tries to kick, but the space between the both of them is too tight for him to have much game.  


With a shiver, he feels the stranger’s lips descending on his neck, biting, licking, and bruising. Angrily, powerlessly, he starts to tear up.  


“Why are you doing this? Why would you want to claim me? I don’t even know your name!” he says, feeling the emotion in his voice and disgusting his own self.  


Harry hears the zipper of his own jeans being pulled down, and a hand manhandling him. He struggles, tries to scream as he feels the dirty hand molesting him, pulling him hard enough to hurt. The stalker places a hand of his mouth, murmuring soothing ‘shh’ sounds in his ear.  


“You don’t know me, eh? Just like the thousand others. I loved you, you didn’t love me back. You destroyed me, now I’m destroying you. You’re just getting what you asked for, you son of a bitch.” The stalker murmurs this, and Harry almost faints in fear.  


The man is surely one of the hundred pricks he’s probably fucked in boarding school.  


“You love it; don’t even try to lie to me. We both know you like it rough” the stalker laughs. He pulls harder at Harry’s manhood, causing him fair amounts of pain as he screams, biting away at the hand.  


“HELP! SOMEONE!”  


At this, Harry gets slapped. _Hard_.  


“Shut the fuck up, or I swear I’ll fuck you bloody” the stalker hisses in his ear. Numb, Harry feels the dirty hand moving behind to his buttocks, splitting them apart. Not even wet, a finger tries to slip in, making him scream even louder as the other hand squeezes his nuts sharply.  


“Keep fucking quiet!”  


There’s a ‘woosh’ sound, and the stalker is seen flying through thin air. Harry immediately falls forward, face planting into the ground. Only, strong arms are pulling him up, and he feels himself flying.  


“Wha…” He tries to speak, but his throat his numb.  


“You’ll be fine, mate. I’m just taking you somewhere safe.”  


The voice his familiar… Where has he heard it before? He can’t figure it out. As he opens his eyes to a flash of blue and red, Harry stars feeling rubber on his skin. As he looks up, he realises he’s straddled up in Spider-Man’s arms, flying across The Big Apple.  


Dumb-struck, Harry gapes at the hero open mouthed.  


“How did you…”  


Harry feels Spidey’s eyes on him, behind the mask.  


“I was in the neighborhood, I guess? Lucky, because you were in pretty bad shape.” The hero suddenly stops all movement, taking them down in another alley.  


He drops Harry standing up. The blonde boy, fragile, almost falls down, but steadies himself as he zips his pants up once more, tightening his blazer. He turns around to face the hero.  


“Than… Thank you so much… I don’t even know how to…” Harry begins, but when he looks up, the man is already gone.  


The billionaire looks up at the sky. He’s alone again.  


« _Brilliant night, Osborn. Just fucking brilliant_ » he thinks sarcastically as he walks out into the street. Looking left, he finds that Spider-Man has left him right beside OSCORP Tower.  


Harry now owed his life to a vigilante spider. What an amazing thing. And, now he knew for sure that somewhere in New York city, a man wanted to rape the life out of him. Stretching his arms, he found out that every member of his body felt either numb or caused him excruciating pain.  


“I need to sleep” he slowly said to himself, entering the imposing building.  


He could think about all of this in the morning. Everything could wait until the sun came up.  


It would all be better then, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back! I'm writing this fic for an anon who requested it on Tumblr. I hope you guys will bear up with me (and it). If there are any mistakes please tell me as French is my first language. Much love to all of you. xx


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